Graham Chapman's funeral speech
Heidi
cleese!
Graham Chapman, co-author of the 'Parrot Sketch,' is no more.
He has ceased to be, bereft of life, he rests in peace, he has kicked the
bucket, hopped the twig, bit the dust, snuffed it, breathed his last, and
gone to meet the Great Head of Light Entertainment in the sky, and I guess
that we're all thinking how sad it is that a man of such talent, such
capability and kindness, of such intelligence should now be so suddenly
spirited away at the age of only forty-eight, before he'd achieved many of
the things of which he was capable, and before he'd had enough fun.
Well, I feel that I should say, "Nonsense. Good riddance to him, the
freeloading bastard! I hope he fries. "
And the reason I think I should say this is, he would never forgive me if I
didn't, if I threw away this opportunity to shock you all on his behalf.
Anything for him but mindless good taste. I could hear him whispering in my
ear last night as I was writing this:
"Alright, Cleese, you're very proud of being the first person to ever say
'shit' on television. If this service is really for me, just for starters, I
want you to be the first person ever at a British memorial service to say
'fuck'!"
You see, the trouble is, I can't. If he were here with me now I would
probably have the courage, because he always emboldened me. But the truth
is, I lack his balls, his splendid defiance. And so I'll have to content
myself instead with saying 'Betty Mardsen...'
But bolder and less inhibited spirits than me follow today. Jones and Idle,
Gilliam and Palin. Heaven knows what the next hour will bring in Graham's
name. Trousers dropping, blasphemers on pogo sticks, spectacular displays of
high-speed farting, synchronised incest. One of the four is planning to
stuff a dead ocelot and a 1922 Remington typewriter up his own arse to the
sound of the second movement of Elgar's cello concerto. And that's in the
first half.
Because you see, Gray would have wanted it this way. Really. Anything for
him but mindless good taste. And that's what I'll always remember about
him---apart, of course, from his Olympian extravagance. He was the prince of
bad taste. He loved to shock. In fact, Gray, more than anyone I knew,
embodied and symbolised all that was most offensive and juvenile in Monty
Python. And his delight in shocking people led him on to greater and greater
feats. I like to think of him as the pioneering beacon that beat the path
along which fainter spirits could follow.
Some memories. I remember writing the undertaker speech with him, and him
suggesting the punch line, 'All right, we'll eat her, but if you feel bad
about it afterwards, we'll dig a grave and you can throw up into it.' I
remember discovering in 1969, when we wrote every day at the flat where
Connie Booth and I lived, that he'd recently discovered the game of printing
four-letter words on neat little squares of paper, and then quietly placing
them at strategic points around our flat, forcing Connie and me into frantic
last minute paper chases whenever we were expecting important guests.
I remember him at BBC parties crawling around on all fours, rubbing himself
affectionately against the legs of gray-suited executives, and delicately
nibbling the more appetizing female calves. Mrs. Eric Morecambe remembers
that too.
I remember his being invited to speak at the Oxford union, and entering the
chamber dressed as a carrot---a full length orange tapering costume with a
large, bright green sprig as a hat----and then, when his turn came to speak,
refusing to do so. He just stood there, literally speechless, for twenty
minutes, smiling beatifically. The only time in world history that a totally
silent man has succeeded in inciting a riot.
I remember Graham receiving a Sun newspaper TV award from Reggie Maudling.
Who else! And taking the trophy falling to the ground and crawling all the
way back to his table, screaming loudly, as loudly as he could. And if you
remember Gray, that was very loud indeed.
It is magnificent, isn't it? You see, the thing about shock... is not that
it upsets some people, I think; I think that it gives others a momentary joy
of liberation, as we realised in that instant that the social rules that
constrict our lives so terribly are not actually very important.
Well, Gray can't do that for us anymore. He's gone. He is an ex-Chapman. All
we have of him now is our memories. But it will be some time before they
fade.
George Kincaid
Robert Klein hosted a few years ago. He was "telegraphing" a response when
Terry Gilliam kicked his urn across the stage. A janitor came out with a
Dust Devil and swept him away! Classic stuff.
"RW" <Achte...@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:a2a7601b.05042...@posting.google.com...
> Cool, and I know a video fragment for the first half of his speech,
> but has anyone got the entire memorial service on tape??? Please?????
>
>
> "Heidi" <kill_ug...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
> news:<zrednTthPP6...@brightview.com>...
George Kincaid
his memory alive.> And they poured some tea in. But that 1998 reunion is not the thing I
> mean.
>
>
> "George Kincaid" <george....@worldnet.att.net> wrote in message
> news:<JQZae.118806$cg1....@bgtnsc04-news.ops.worldnet.att.net>...
George Kincaid
Ministry of silly walks
> Cool, and I know a video fragment for the first half of his speech,
> but has anyone got the entire memorial service on tape??? Please?????
If found it on Emule:
ed2k://|file|Monty%20Python%20-%20John%20Cleese%20Eulogy%20For%20Graham%20Chapman%20(FULL)%20-%20forgraham.mpg|15163316|5DA84982EBFE2DBC3A1C4939075FD7B0|/
it's a 14.5 mb MPEG file, so not a very good a/v quality, but I think you
could be interested.
Bye,
M.
John Johnson
'viral videos'...
"Ministry of silly walks" <non.sc...@in.email.it> wrote in message
news:11sar8acadvvw$.ln9x4064paff$.dlg@40tude.net...
John Johnson
http://www.ifilm.com/ifilmdetail/2665837
"John Johnson" <jo...@johnson.ca> wrote in message
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